I’m wondering how you tell someone how you’re doing when there is no real word for it, no simple phrase for it, no cliché for it, and the truth is so multi layered – even one of my closest friends, Susie, struggles to remember each detail that is intertwined with a narrative so dynamic even I struggle to encase it in an elevator pitch that might make sense to someone who simply wants to know how I’m doin‘.
Here’s how I’m doin – I’m full of love. L. O. V. E. I feel so much of it right now and it could possibly be because I’m giddy from lack of sleep then too much sleep having had to pass through the eye of a needle and having come out on the other side.
I am REMARKABLE (to borrow a word, a predicate adjective, from my friend, Claudia).
To know me is to know that I love a calendar, a list, an organized place, a plan, a thought, sense of being AND yet, to really know me is to know how damn elusive any predictability truly is in my life. On the calendar last month was Tin coming home for his first home visit in a year. Instead, the weeks between then and now have been filled with transporting Tin to a wilderness program in North Georgia and being thrust in a new parent community, new therapist, new family therapist, new communication criteria and then there was a plan for me to visit this week.
But there were warning shots being fired. The therapist kept saying “I hope he can stay in the program” and my anxiety kept saying, he can do it, he can do it. But a sinking feeling set in when I got a call the day before I was to leave. And my feelings started slipping out of HOPE, KNOWING, into WORRY, and lots of WHAT NOW’s.
As I packed my car to head to the mountains, I learned Tin would need to go somewhere else – now – and there was little time to suss out where and then it was clear that somewhere else was where he started one year ago, Stonewater, where they would be waiting for him with open arms. One minute, this next step is not on my radar, then this next step is not only on the radar but also makes complete sense, like a silver lining waiting to be revealed.
Of course, then there are logistics for a new plan, how to get from A to B, and this time, I relied heavily on my intuition which served me well. Against the expert’s recommendations, I picked up Tin myself in the mountains on Wednesday morning and drove through a cotton candy colored forest in Tennessee for hours and hours, winding and rolling in and around mountains, as we made our way to the flatter, greener city of Oxford, Mississippi.
Those hours in the car were a gift – a chance to reconnect with my son – to hear where he is stuck, to reassure him that I am here to walk this journey with him, to remind both of us that together we make each other stronger. I learned about all of the people he met, who was funny, who was angry, who was sad. I even learned about the dogs, the ones he had met and the ones he had heard of.
On this journey, as if it were a marathon we were participating in, Tin and I had friends and family texting, calling, on standby, one friend (Betsy) was sorting his clothes in Tucson and shipping them to Stonewater, one friend (Susie) was dealing with admissions, one niece (Michelle) housing me, one brother and sister in law (Bill and Deb) on standby, one niece (Lexi) also on standby, friends taking care of business – mine and his – here and there – and we made it.
Eighteen hours in the car on Wednesday, and we pulled up to Stonewater to familiar faces who ran out to welcome Tin back with open arms. A text message was desperately sent to Vivian at Tree House Gallery to see if the studio was available for me to crash in. Yes, and crash I did – I showered, and crawled into bed, and slept from 1am to 10:30am as if my life depended on it.
Enlightenment is making peace with the unknown.
I’m going to work on my elevator pitch to the question, how are ya doin’? I’ve been responding, I’m good enough. But that is a real lame answer. I’m better than good enough. My son once again pushed me into finding out how strong I am, how loved I am, how supported I am, and how capable I am. And during this time, I learned how loved he is, how he has the capacity to touch so many people’s hearts, and how his biggest lesson is one I have spent a lifetime learning — how to love himself.
They say about the spiral, that you keep going round and round seeing the same people, places, situations and you don’t move up, until you have changed. Tin is back full circle to where he started his healing process, and he has changed. So he gets to move up to the next rung. And, so do I.
[Thank you for reading my writing; I love hearing from you and
would love to gather your responses here, instead of on social media.]